


Short Stories

by theworldisntours



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cool, I Don't Even Know, Multi, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, What am I doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29924667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworldisntours/pseuds/theworldisntours
Summary: heres a bunch of mini stories ive written they r somewhat good :D uhhhhHHH if u like it then cool :D





	Short Stories

I woke up on a train. The sounds of the railway underneath me, the small jerks and pulls of the train. I looked around me, I recognized none of the faces. I guess that was expected of course, why would I recognize anyone on the train. 

However, I seem to have forgotten why I am on the train. I scanned my brain for an answer, but nothing came. So I turned to the lady next to me, she was old. The wrinkles weighed down her face, so it sagged. She had tears in her eyes that she dried with a handkerchief. A purple handkerchief. 

“Excuse me, ma’am.” She lifted her head and smiled at me. “Do you know where we are going?” The train stopped and a man got off. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. 

“I know where I am going. Where you are going I haven’t the slightest clue!” She laughed. I eyed her curiously. The train kept going, it was dark outside, snow was falling. 

“Could I get off at your stop and look at a map. I seem to have forgotten my stop.” I told her. She looked confused. 

“Oh don’t worry! You will remember when we get there.” She smiled. The train came to a stop again. She smiled at me and got up. “This is my stop.” She tucked her handkerchief in her pocket. “I always complained about this color to him. I’m glad I kept it.” 

I let her out of the seat and she walked past me. I looked out of the window at the falling snow and empty train stop. A man stood there, in a suit, he was young. A smile was on his face, bright and excited. The old woman stepped on the train, but just as she did her wrinkles turned into soft skin. Her old eyes returned to a brilliant blue. Her grey hair turned into long strands of pure gold. She smiled at the man, her cheeks rosy and pink. He hugged her, the return of love. 

The doors closed and the train sped away. 

“What?” I backed away from the window, startled. She turned from old to young, from frail to free, how did that happen. I got up and looked around the train, there were only a handful of people. Was I going insane? 

I ran to the back of the train, no one glanced at me. All trapped in their own worlds. I banged on the door, wishing to be let out. 

“Sir!” A small voice said and tugged at my coat. I turned around to see a little girl. She had her hair in braids, red hair. A small hat on her head and a coat on her shoulders. “Please stop banging.”   
“Oh...yes, I will stop,” I told her and stumbled over to a seat. 

“Are you drunk?” She asked. I laughed at the question. No hesitation in her voice, just pure child ignorance. 

“No, I am not drunk. Where is your mom?”   
“She’s not here. Last I saw her she was drunk. Then I woke up here.” The little girl said. I frowned. What an odd story. 

“I seem to have forgotten everything before this point,” I told the girl. 

“Most people do. The nice man over there told me people remember closer to their stop.” The girl said. 

“Is that so?” I wondered. She nodded. 

“I don’t want to remember.” 

“Why is that?” I asked and leaned back in my chair. 

“I’m afraid whatever I remember will be upsetting.” She frowned. I frowned back at her. We frowned. 

“A knife!” The screams of a man came from the front of the train. People looked over at him as he banged against the door. “A knife a knife! Let me out!” 

“Sir please calm down.” A woman said and held her child closer to her. He screamed in pain and held his head. The train came to a stop and he stumbled out the opened doors. I looked at the man and breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at a little boy on the train stop. 

His pained expression turned into a smile as he hugged the child. Tears streamed down his face as he cried. I wondered what that kind of happiness was like. I looked back at the girl. 

“I’ve remembered now.” She said. “She was drunk I’m sure she didn’t mean to.”   
“She didn’t mean to?” I asked but a memory washed over me. 

A boy in a white collared shirt. Brown hair and a pretty smile. A pretty smile with pretty eyes. A pretty smile with pretty eyes and a pretty face. Oh how pretty this boy was. How pretty this mystery boy was. 

“She loves me! And she didn’t mean to!” The girl told me, a couple of tears running down her face. I snapped back to reality and looked at her. 

“Oh...I’m sure she loved you very much.” I told her. The girl nodded as her tears dried from her cheeks. 

“Goodbye, sir! I can’t wait to be with my dad again!” She smiled widely before hopping off the train. 

“Again?” I repeated and watched her dance around a man that I could only guess was her father. The train started again. I leaned back in my chair and watched the world go by outside. 

“A train huh?” A man stood over me. “I never expected it to be like this.” 

“To be like what?” I asked. He had green eyes, blonde hair, and a mediocre smile. I made room for him to sit. 

“The afterlife is just a train. I wonder what happens once we get off. Maybe acceptance? End of a grieving period?” He stammered on. 

“Afterlife?”   
“Well yes of course. Why else would we be here?” He asked me like he expected that to be my first thought. “A train system, a system of memories, a system of love and hatred. A system for us to travel to our destinations.”   
“Destinations?” I was starting to get confused. 

“You ask too many questions, kind sir.” 

“Answer a few for me please.” 

“Answer them yourself. It’s my stop.” He smiled at me and stood up. I watched him leave the train, greeted by no one. Greeted by nothing but a shadow. He smiled. What could his destination have been? 

Answer my questions myself. Another memory forced its way into my brain. I closed my eyes and tried to remember it all. 

_ London was wet and rainy every day. Clouds circled overhead, determined to ruin the day for everyone. It was 1912, it was quiet, the world was quiet. It spoke only for him, sang for only him. The world sang everyone a song. I disliked the tune. _

_ I knew that I was insane the second I met his eyes. I knew that the world was cursing at me when we first spoke. I wondered how he felt if the world was beating him up as well. It most likely was. He didn’t have scars though.  _

_ We would run through the rain, the London rain. Laugh at the fact that we were rich and wished to be poor. Dance to the music we made for ourselves.  _

_ Then kissed, kissed through the pain. Wished for the world to love us just as much as we loved it. Hearts beating, heads thinking, lives to live.  _

_ It was as though we were everything. Of course, no one else thought so. No one thought so when they found us dancing to our own music when we were there and they weren’t.  _

_ He smiled at me and screamed something as the bullet went through his head. I think I screamed back. I would like to think he told me to run because it gave me an excuse to. I know he didn’t though. I knew he wasn’t one to run.  _

_ I ran through. Through the streets of London. Through my own head. I ran straight out of life. Staring at the sky that was so determined to make us miserable. I wanted the world to start our song. But I just heard the songs that it gave to everyone else. I disliked the songs it played. I wanted to hear ours, but I wanted the world to play it, I longed for the world to play it. It never did. I frowned, the end of life. I fell right onto the train.  _

The train stopped. It stopped for me. The world stopped for me. I stood up and walked off, I stepped onto the snowy stop. Too scared to look up. Much too scared. I stared at my shoes, stared at the white snow on the ground. 

“Look up Jacobs.” A comforting voice told me. So I did. He stood there. Pretty smile, pretty eyes, pretty face, pretty boy. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. I tried not to cry but the music we made for ourselves started playing again. 

“Hi, William.” I reached to touch him. “I missed you.”   
“As did I.,” He told me. He pulled me into a hug. Our hearts beat the same harmonious rhythm. Our eyes see the shade of colors. Are minds thinking the same phrases. I started to cry into his shoulder as he pulled me closer. “Hey guess what.” 

“What?”   
“The world is playing our song.” He told me. 

“It is?” I listened. And so it was. The world was playing it. For us, for everyone, for everyone who cried to hear it. The world played it. 

“Jacobs, it would’ve played it for us out there as well.”

“I didn’t want to hear it without you,” I told him. 

“Jacob's you never were good with words. Always lazy, always stumbling.”   
“I have too many thoughts to voice.” I reminded him. 

“What thought do you have now.” He asked. The train started to leave, speeding away. I didn’t even have to think this time. I was terrible with words but I was able to say this. 

“I love you, William,” I told him. The train was gone and the snow melted away at our feet. The cold stopped consuming our minds and let us breathe.

“I love you as well Jacobs.” He pulled me closer and the world became ours. It played our songs, it played it in our hearts. 

I finally let the world in and it embraced me. The train gave me my destination, my final destination. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank youuuuu


End file.
